“Sunday Funday” in small town Italia.
A short, but very beautiful and winding drive up a mountain from Bologna you’ll find Loiano (Lo-ee-AH-no). Loiano is a sleepy, little mountain town 45 minutes south of Bologna, filled with personality, pride and tradition…and less than 5,000 residents. Yesterday, it appeared to be anything but sleepy (sonnolento). The città was buzzing with Festa D’La Batdura. There are so many different dialects in Italy, “Batdura” doesn’t translate exactly, but the gist of the day (from what I could gather) was a celebration of what the local grain harvest means to their community. There were booths set up by local farmers, artisans and purveyors. With bales of hay lining the narrow streets, John Deere tractors and combines on display, and the occasional horse, I felt like I was back on the ranch. Of course, the background of the canvas was a gorgeous mountain and not a single person had on cowboy boots, so I knew I wasn’t in west Texas!
Let’s talk festival food for a second…we all know that’s the best part anyway. I had a crescentina (pronounced: cresh-in-TEE-na) for the first time yesterday and it blew my mind. Crescentine (plural) were born out of the brilliant gastronomical minds of the Bolognese and Modenese. It’s really a simple food made of water, wheat, yeast and baking soda – shaped like a large tortilla, but with qualities similar to a sopaipilla. I know what you’re thinking…”So what? That doesn’t sound awesome.” But I’m here to tell you, it’s light and airy, perfectly crispy on the outside and soft on the inside and best when wrapped around prosciutto like a big Italian taco. The parma ham gives it a little saltiness that is shut-your-mouth-FANTASTICO! It’s not messy and it’s easy to eat on the go…Seriously, it might be the best festival food ever. There’s nothing more disgusting than watching someone walking around a festival with a greasy face, gnawing on an enormous turkey leg. If you watch them long enough they’ll start digging around in their mouth with a finger or two because they’ve got a ligament stuck in their teeth. Gag, right? (I know you know what I’m talking about.)
I was too busy eating my crescentina to take a photo of it, so Monica posed for me with hers. She was in the middle of the happy food dance so it turned out a bit blurry.
On to the entertainment! There were so many cute, old people participating in the various traditional dances and rituals (including an ultra-mini parade…there were less than 50 total participants, including the band). My favorite was a dance that represented the stages of courting/dating. There were 4 couples dancing in unison – sort of like a square dance set-up. They’d chase each other in a circle waving bandanas at each other. Then there was some back and forth movement of the partners across from each other where they made the Italian “F*ck You” sign to one other as they rocked to the beat. I should’ve known what was coming next, but it caught me off guard when they swished the handkerchiefs between their legs and started gyrating on them in unison with their partners It was a little dirty in a very playful way (and highly entertaining). For the record, I know a few raunchy 80-year-olds that would’ve gotten up there and participated. I may or may not be related to them. *wink*
For dinner (cena pronounced: CHE-na), I had tagliatelle with cinghiale (pronounced: ching-AH-le translates: wild boar) and also nibbled on some pane, patate, polenta, and sausage made from a mixture of different meats (venison, wild boar, etc.) It was really lean and quite flavorful, but not gamey like I thought it would be. When I asked what cervo (pronounced with a “CH”) was on the menu, I was told it was “bambi”. I replied, “Oh, deer. That’s also my sister’s name.”
Oh deer! That was some greatness! Love your worldly ass!